burn, baby, burn, you've got me now
by Kuro49
Summary: Chuck/Herc. In Herc's defence, Chuck shouldn't be leaving his porn mags by the bed anyway.


If you couldn't tell, I am camping out in the Pacific Rim kinkmeme at the moment. Written for the prompt: Herc/Chuck, smoking porn. _Herc is a smoker. It makes Chuck really horny. Can be first time or established relationship or even UST if you like. I'm also fine with other people perving on smoking!Herc, but if anyone gets him, it should be Chuck. Bonus if Herc is well aware of the effect his smoking has on people and does it on purpose. _(Please go read the comments in the original prompt thread, someone mentions burning porn mag and "Herc destroys all of Chuck's porn mags" and I just couldn't NOT write that.)

I sincerely apologize for the lack of people perving on smoking!Herc though. Also, this was supposed to be sexy, but then it took a sharp turn for plain awful crack and then I tried to make it slight funny instead. /buries face in palms

XXX

**burn, baby, burn, you've got me now**

XXX

The silver lighter is an old and scratched up thing.

But it burns with the same old flicker in Hercules Hansen's hand when he digs out a cigarette from his weather worn jacket, hanging on the back of a chair pulled too close to the bed. Chuck rolls over from beside him and lets out a soft groan at the familiar smell of nicotine in the air. He doesn't want to open his eyes, his mind still in a perfect post coital state of bliss that he isn't ready to ruin just yet.

"…I should've thrown that stupid jacket further."

"Better luck next time, kid."

And it's just as well, because his dad _knows_ exactly what it does to him, to see his old man lighting up, smoke curling from between his lips (lips that have just been wrapped around his cock). Herc has seen it in the Drift, seen it in the way Chuck looks away with a huff, lips twisting into a scowl that is more parts turned on than angry.

They are both naked beneath the sheets, but that is a given when Chuck turns over to glare up at his father, his head nestling right against his side, the dirty blonde hair brushing right over the bare skin like an insistent itch Herc never wants to go away.

"Not in my room, you bastard." Chuck throws an arm over his face at the sight of his dad sucking in the nicotine, cheeks hollowing out. "…I hate you so much."

But his grumble only earns him a low chuckle from the other as he breathes out a lungful of smoke. And that sound has always been nothing but encouraging in the worst possible way.

Except, his dad has always been much better at this than anyone expects him to be, waiting until there is no one else in the vicinity to take a drag, breathe out like the world hasn't been on his shoulders since forever. Unless he is in Chuck's bed that is, then he will smoke because he knows the way his lips wrap around the length does multiple things to his son all at once.

No one ever notices the nicotine stains underneath the nails, Chuck doesn't know how but Chuck always does. (Of course he does, there is no one else that takes as much pleasure as him when he takes Herc's fingers into his mouth.) It's like tasting second-hand smoke on the flat of his tongue, and it's just as intoxicating every single time.

"You want to try?"

"You're a terrible father."

Chuck wrinkles his nose like Max would but he still takes it from Herc's offering hands. Putting his mouth over where his father's have just been, he breathes in deep, and while he doesn't choke and cough, it's a near thing.

"This is disgusting." He makes a face as Herc takes it back, but he doesn't look away when the man pulls in another drag. Yet, it is the smirk curling softly over his father's lips that undoes something coiled tight within Chuck. He lets out a low growl as one last warning before he is rolling on top of his father's frame, covering him with his own.

Herc's smirk only widens, breathless with the added weight over him. "I know."

And then Chuck is leaning down to claim his mouth. Absently he plucks the cigarette back from between his father's fingers, dropping it off to the side. Chuck is gripping Herc's hips, just tight enough to leave bruises right beneath the skin, and in return, Herc puts a hand to the back of his son's head, pulls his hair and tilts his chin just right to kiss him back into a perfect kind of sore oblivion.

He moves his tongue against his, all slick wet heat and insistent pressure when he presses himself all along him, aligning their bodies so there is only a thin layer of sheets separating them from each other.

It isn't until they both smell something burning that they pull back, lips still slick with spit and breathing coming out in soft shared pants. They are a breath apart when realization dawns.

"Did you just…?"

"You dropped it down there."

"I thought you stubbed it out."

"You took it out of my hands, Chuck, when would I have time to stub it out?"

"My mags are on fire."

"That's hardly my fault."

Sitting up, they both peer over the edge of the bed where there is a small fire burning. Chuck doesn't hold back when he punches him in the arm, and with a sigh, Herc reaches under the bed for a boot and, because he is a Hansen, beats the flames into extinguishing. Herc picks up the remains of a porn magazine by the bed, it is burnt through, from the front cover all the way to the back, black around the corners and still smoking. Holding it towards his son, Herc even manages to make it look like a peace offering. Chuck only smacks it out of his hand with a scowl.

"You're making it up to me."

"That I can do."

Chuck really wants to protest some more but his father is already dragging him back down. With the singe of burnt paper still clinging to the air of the room, neither of them has ever been anything but single-minded when the sheets are slipping off of the bed and Chuck is kissing the nicotine from Herc's tongue.

XXX Kuro

Like I said, I apologize wholeheartedly.


End file.
